A Manner of Song (Attn: Ophelia)

[Connor Sleight]

    With Logen tied to Saguenay with matters of healing and assault, he left it up to Connor to see about provisions and recruitment for the Raging Bastard. As Navahla was centrally located with recruits of the Heart moving to and fro from the largest city that held the greatest hold of trade and population, it was a no-brainer to seek the requirements of sailing the world.

Provisions for travel, food and drink, supplies for repairs and gunpowder, all trivial in the matter of the responsibilities of yeoman and boatswain. But a crew... A crew formidable to be unchallenged and unchecked by any other vessel on the vast waters, that's where it took consideration, hunting...

But not this time, apparently...

    The mismatched hues of sapphire and emerald had caught sight of a poster placed upon a peg board. In fact, he was one of those that studied such implements knowing that they held insight and knowledge. The request for employment, written in finer penmanship than expected took his attention. So much that he plucked the parchment and scanned over the document. Instructions to find the song bird made it all a little too easy, but he couldn't complain about such a thing. A casual stroll through the markets sounded peaceful in theory.

    Theory alone, though. Connor had a bout of infamy to his name, though he'd swear it was all over some mistaken history. Others would argue no mistake was made as he was marked to stand out by the color of his eyes and the cut of his ears. So while he stepped, he was watched and judged and considered until he disappeared through the front door of the letters with invitation in hand. Beyond the threshold, he did not dwell. A silent closing of the door was allotted time before he was pressing towards the inn keeper. The Halfling, as it were, was there waiting for him and a kinship among the sidhe was inevitable. Connor offered a smile and a bow of his head in respect to the creature.

    "I'm here to answer the call about a songstress.. The Raging Bastard has need of her.. If she is par for the course."

[Ophelia Harrington]

Ophelia Harrington was a well-known name across the lands of Arith, more so under her original stage name but she had left that behind, just like the rest of that life. Now, she was known as the Blackbird, and her costume, which had once been a brilliantly blinding white affair, was now made up of black feathers. Each feather had been hand stitched into place, to create a single piece bodice and skirt, both of which rest easy upon her pale skin.

The Bard was, at that moment, sat upon the strange preparing for her daytime routine. There were many a measure of instrument around her but she toyed with the song-crystal flute between her fingers – in the end, she placed it back into its case, and lifted the violin to rest upon her chin. Inhaling softly, just once, she rest the bow against the strings; the melody that arose from the instrument was haunting at first, meant to send a shiver down the spine of the listener and to draw out the uncanny feeling that they were being judged, not by Ophelia but by the music.

The mixture of music and magic had always been her mainstay but today there was no accompaniment by the illusionary band behind her, it was just her own soul that was being laid bare for the listener. This part of the song lasted just long enough to make sure that everyone was enraptured by each note, and all attention was upon her. Slowly but surely, the song began to change into something a little more upbeat but the change in the audience was much more revealing, and instead of that uncanny feeling of judgement, they would start to feel the joy of reprieve. The notes felt like they were for each and every person alone, feeding their desires, dreams and wants and while they were all listening to the same piece, not one of them would be able to describe it to another – for each would see… and feel, something different.

[Performance Skill – 7d50]
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The applause and the tips at the end of her show were greeted with a flourish of a bow, and if the man looking for her at this time was still there, she made her way to the bar where her apple juice was awaiting her. “Good afternoon…” A smile danced along her lips, brightening her cherub-like face. Ophelia was like a porcelain doll in appearance, small of stature, with brilliant blue eyes and almost white hair. “I understand you were looking for me?” No one had told her but she’d heard him ask before she’d started to play, and what other testament to her skill did she really require, then the show she’d just put on?

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[Connor Sleight]

    It was when the Halfling pointed him in the direction that Connor turned head, hip and finally feet to stand at attention of the woman soon to perform. Study of instrument toyed and placed away had him curious but when the violin was wielded, his lips curled into a smile. Such strings and craftsmanship of wooden box and neck spoke to him before it even had it's strings struck with bow. As the notes were played, his hand reached out to set upon the bar and lean casually with ears absorbing the waves of sound he truly believed were meant for him.

    The inspiration of emotion, the control of whim set his mismatched eyes closed and his thoughts went to lands distant in placement and time. For a moment, he was in company of Sir Dante and Sir Bradley, both having been cursory in judgment and friendship. Events of struggle and camaraderie flickered over his mind's eye as the Songstress set the illusion.

    He was swaying... Unknowing to him, his body shifted and his neck relaxed as the beat took hold of dexterous foot and finger. Tapped and drummed with the natural inclination to follow the story-laced rhythm. His smile had never faded, not even after she had come to a close with the song provided for the patrons of the Letters Inn. He did, however, manage to sort himself out as the softer steps of the woman approached. With eyes wide opened, he watched with an appraising gaze until she had arrived.

    She was perceptive and graceful, with talent he had not witnessed in years... But then again, he had been a resident of Shatter Island for a long while now.

Her greeting was answered with a nod and after she had refreshed her lips and throat, Connor found his voice again to speak to her.

"Indeed, I am." He paused a moment in consideration before unfolding the poster of employment sought. "If you are, in fact, the woman that has placed these around the city. My name is Connor Sleight and I represent the Raging Bastard's enterprise..." He hadn't gotten an absolute feel as to what that name meant to every single person in the world and in this moment, he had hoped it wasn't a dissuasion. "And I am looking for an addition to his crew... A songstress, in particular."

[Ophelia Harrington]

Ophelia was quiet while she listened to the man, with only a single glance down to the notices she had posted around the city in search of work. While she enjoyed her place at the Letters, she was no longer adventuring so did not have a steady income of capital. A brow arched slightly at his pitch, and she motioned for him to follow her towards the stage. The nymph turned upon her heel and made her way quickly through the gathering crowd, back to where her belongings were huddled in a corner. The violin, that had been held in her hand up until that moment, was rest upon the velvet in the case gently, with an attentive adoration one usually associated with a child or a loved one.

A few moments had passed before she said, “I have to say my curiosity is peaked, Connor.” She paused for a moment before turning to face him directly, her hands folding before her while she considered his words carefully. “Have you… mentioned this offer to your captain?” She knew exactly who captained the Raging Bastard and his ties to her ex-husband – though she hoped that her own reputation proceeded her as well. “Oh, I forget myself. I’m Ophelia Harrington.” She bowed her head in greeting before a smile danced in against her lips again, and she took a seat and motioned for him to do the same, if he so wished it.

“How long would I be at sea at a time?” Her curiosity had always managed to get her into danger, but the thought of being at sea was just too much to pass up – she had always had an affinity with the ocean, and she had a lot of experience aboard seafaring vessels. “I have two children you see... would that be an issue?” The thought of leaving them behind didn’t even cross her mind, there was nothing for them on the mainland.

[Connor Sleight]

    "In the matter of speaking with Logen, no, I have not had the chance to... I've only but found you." Words reserved for whenever they had arrived and found themselves seated at a table near the performing stage. He took hold of a chair and pulled it out for himself to be seated. His hands would clasp together as he leaned forward upon the wooden table top. He would then peer over his shoulder a moment, taking note of the patrons within the Letters Inn before returning his focus to Ophelia.

    "Voyages can be long as the Bastard is known for it's hand-in-hand partnership with the Heart. Not every place can simply be 'ported to. And it's enterprise is based solely on transport, but it is a warship, Miss Harrington. I would wager children would be welcome but there always looms the threat of privateers and Logen's enemies... He may boast that the Bastard is -the- predator among the Maelstrom and Jade Sea, but oceanic navigation comes with it's dangers."

    Hands would open, revealing palms in an open suggestive manner. "That decision will solely be up to you but I don't believe it would be a damper towards your employment." His right hand would then turn, stiffening his fingers to tap upon the table in idle mannerism. "If you are still interested, I will pass word on to Logen and the two of you can iron things out in a more concrete fashion. He trusts my opinion but still, it's his ship and he'll have the final say..."

[Ophelia Harrington]

Ophelia watched the man while he spoke, her head tilting softly to the side as she took in his words and rolled them around in her mind for full consideration. The safety and happiness of her children was paramount but she couldn’t deny the old feeling of temptation that flited around in her stomach. In the end, she exhaled softly and her eyebrows pinched together, she had already made her choice in her heart of hearts but there were so many variables that she couldn’t work through on her own.

Her fingers were linked together in front of her on the table, the tips pressing against the back of each hand and her thumb tips pressed together to create an arch before she started to tap them together – it was something she did when she was teetering on the edge of nerves and excitement. “Let your captain know that I wish to talk to him…” It was time for Ophelia to move on and she wondered if this was the way she was going to do it. “I’m interested – definitely interested.” A smile danced in along her lips, and her hands loosened their grip on one another. “I’ve always loved the sea.” That was an understatement if ever there was one.